The Fallen
by kblvs2read
Summary: The downfall of the Black Organization, and how the events leading up to, and after it, affect the lives of those who chased them. EDITED Nov 24


**EDIT (24/11/2010): So I fixed some minor grammar/spelling issues that were found….and I made things more spaced out so it's easier to read! :D Enjoy!**

**Obligatory Disclaimer: Do you really think I'd bother creating a false username to write fiction about my own work? Yeah, didn't think so.

* * *

**

Gin had never thought of water torture as an overwhelming bringer of terror until the pipes acquired a leak. The steady _plip-plop_, _plip-plop_ made him want to pull out his beloved gun (if he had still possessed it) and shoot anything in sight (which admittedly wasn't a foreign desire).

But still, one of the very things he couldn't live without (besides killing and cigarettes. Oh, and food and oxygen) was slowly driving him insane. Or maybe the correct term would be _further _insane.

However, there was a distinct possibility that it wasn't the leaky pipes in the ceiling, but rather the bleak, dank cell this one-time killer was imprisoned in that was causing the madness.

Prison. Somewhere Gin had never imagined he'd ever be permanently. To him, it had always been a nuisance he would be forced to endure until higher ups implemented into the system could pull their appropriate strings and release him. Only now, those same higher ups were being weeded out and locked away. Just like him.

Just like Vodka would have been.

If there was one thing Gin hated (besides the other items at the top of his list: _her_, when his targets _didn't stay dead_, and Vermouth), it was when others were right and he was wrong. A person really didn't appreciate what they had until it was gone.

Gone and cold and never annoying him with stupidity and never being there to watch his back. And never calling him "Aniki" again.

Sharp footsteps alerted the former Organization member of another's approach. Even after all this time, he refused to appear weak. Sitting up sharply on the plain cot, he shoved his silver hair off his face and prepped his 'Just-you-wait-I'll-kill-you-when-you-least-expect-it' glare.

Flocked by guards with guns aimed steady at his vital points was a woman. A tall, familiar woman who had…grown up in a sense (?) from the last time he'd seen her.

"_You heard what Kudou said! I want your hands up in the air!" a small shrill voice screamed at him. It wasn't the gun she held that was shocking. It was her face. One Gin knew from a long time ago. _

_"She-" the man growled. A warning shot grazed his cheek. _

_"Hands up, Gin. You are surrounded by the FBI with no weapons, a dead partner, and are at point-blank range to my gun!" _

_The man was now obviously in shock (Sherry? No, Shiho. So young! How?). "How the hell-" _

_"APTX4809. I took the same drug you administered to _Kudou_." An accusation. _

_A shake of his head. There were too many. A last name wasn't enough to jog his memory. _

_She fired more aimless shots in anger. He could care less. Others were approaching them, and he was without any form of a weapon. They were sounding out his doom. Unless he could kill them with _paper cuts_._

"…" Ferocious anger boiling under the surface, Gin poured out all his anger and desire to rip that bitch limb from limb into his gaze, directed at said bitch.

She began calmly, "I found the antidote." "No shit, Sherlock's whore," Gin ground out.

All was quiet, though not a peaceful silence. "It's understandable for you to hate Shinichi and I," Shiho commented evenly.

"Ooh, an upgrade! Last time _dear_ Ai-chan visited months ago, the detective brat was only known as Kudou!" (Ah, he loved to childishly mock and still sound hardcore bad-ass evil!)

He'd had quite a few months to become bitter. The authorities were treading lightly around all the Black Organization members in the government, police, etc. (which numbered quite a few), and hence investigations and imprisonments stretched out indefinitely.

For the first time, she audibly flinched. "So, to what honor do I owe this visit?" Acid dripped-no, saturated!-his tone. (Oh, if only he could use that same caustic material to physically harm _her_!)

"The tables are finally turned."

Just a few years ago he had imprisoned her. "You defied the Organization and discontinued your research."

Shiho breathed deeply and sighed. "Even now, you cling to your loyalty of that fallen group." Shaking her head, she continued, "I thought I would feel better once you were here. That I would lose the feeling of constantly feeling hunted, of fear and sleepless nights."

Gin grinned evilly. "Smart of you to keep that around."

She just stared. Only in the past, when he had a gun pointed at her (and maybe when she didn't have a detective up-start to lean on), had she quivered. "No. It just morphed into sadness." Her gaze wandered around his cell. "Every time I visit, I lose more of my…hope, I suppose."

Silent until now, the pieces finally connected for him. "How cute. Do you hope that now captured, I will reform and become a wonderful, cheery, productive member of society again?"

"I _did_." Her voice trembled slightly on the past tense. "But I realize now that you're Gin, and you'll be him until the very end."

He frowned, curious now. "Who did you think I was?"

He was Gin. That was what everyone called him, who he killed as. For many members, their codename was a shield to hide behind, but 'Gin' was akin to another skin, something he slid into and took up easily.

"The person who died when _you_ were born. I stupidly thought that if there was nothing to be loyal _to_, you'd revert." She chuckled bitterly (something he suspected she'd picked up from him), and announced, "I know now that I'll never see Eiliv again."

Shocked by the sound of an old name, Gin leaned against the brick wall. Nodding goodbye curtly, she cursed back at him, "That's all I came for.

"Hang as Gin."

Through his closed eyes, he listened to Sher-Shiho leave. Her retreating footsteps were quicker and harder than her approaching ones.

As if she couldn't wait to get away from some disgusting filth.

Now that there were no witnesses, he let the bravado and confident smirks fall. 'Gin' had been a role he became. At what point had he stopped acting? When had he truly lost Eiliv? And the worst part: Did he really even care?

* * *

"You left her alone?" Akai frowned as they ran along the narrow corridors.

"She asked me to, and she had a gun." 'Conan' panted, jumping over a fallen Cocktail. Both of them had lost their glasses in the fray, which mattered to neither as only their personas needed them.

"Bourbon?" a voice interjected. With a sharp turn, Akai shot the man in the leg and arm. Leaning down, he relieved the man of his handgun.

"Take off the wig-Haibara's alone up there and you keep drawing attention!" Conan implored. Whipping off the last shred of his Okiya façade, the two hurried on.

As they jogged along, Akai checked the member's gun. 'More rounds than my own,' he noted, and put his own weapon away in its holster.

Conan shouted, "This way!" They rushed down the indicated stairs, further into the heart of the Black Organization base. Breathing heavily, Conan finally came to a stop at the end of the stairs.

It was quieter down here, away from the fray. The light above them fizzled, glass shattered from a stray bullet.

"Um," he warned, "Watch out for the body." Having said this, he flipped the top on his stun-gun watch. Akai took this as a cue to aim his own gun.

Sliding down the hall and around a corner, the boy and agent padded quickly down the adjacent hall. In front of the second door on their side was the face-down corpse of a stocky man. "Vodka," Conan muttered, stepping around him.

"Fifth door, the second to last in this hallway."

"Hai." 'Perhaps the fighting being out there is bad,' Akai thought. 'It's too quiet.'

"Remember, we just watch him until the others come."

The 'boy' glanced up at him. "I know," he replied quietly. Akai gave a shudder. The promise to hear the explanation afterwards satisfied him, but this young child's maturity was still eerie.

Slamming open the door, he snapped, "Keep that gun steady."

"I know," Ai replied tersely. 'Déjà vu…'

The man glowered at them with piercing eyes. "Go burn, you fu-" was all he managed to snap before Conan fired his stun gun. Akai watched as his rival fell the ground, out cold and captured.

A sad end for such a proud, standoffish man.

Looking down at Conan, he said with a small smirk, "What happened to watching?"

The young boy shrugged innocently, "It's easier when he out, ne?"

Lowering her gun, Ai walked over. "Who are you?" she asked bluntly to Akai. Conan sweatdropped. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

Thoroughly bored out of his mind, the guard lazily reclined back in his chair. Slowly glancing from monitor to monitor, he debated whether or not to take out his iPod. 'If it's like this during the day, I feel sorry for the night-shift guy.'

There was only one tour today: a small affair with elementary kids and more than enough chaperones to keep them all in line. It was right before the lunch hour, hence the dwindled numbers of individual attendees. Besides, it was a local art museum. They never saw a regular flood of visitor anyways.

Out of the corner of his eye, the guard saw two men in black sit down on a bench in front of a large painting. The shorter, stockier one (Sunglasses? Inside?) looked as bored as he felt, but Tall Blondie was all business.

'Finally, some potential action! Maybe those weirdos will try to rob something!'

Entering the room from the right was the tour group. Courteously, the two men moved off the bench to make room. And immediately the tots filled their seats.

But slinking back from the group were two kids-Glasses and Small Blondie (Damn! I can't watch two brats and a pair of international hunted art thieves at the same time!')

Then, as if planned, _another_ man holding a briefcase walked casually over to the other two! In one group, they walked off.

Glasses and Small Blondie got in a short argument, with S.B. shaking her head vigorously. Glasses still followed the group, and she stubbornly stayed behind. 'Stupid brat!'

Surprisingly, the guard wouldn't have fixated so heavily on this small group had he not been so bored.

The guard traced the four males from monitor to monitor, until they ended up in the back parking lot (Thank the gods we just installed new cameras this week!)

After a few exchange of words and briefcases, Tall Blondie shot New Guy! On _his_ watch!

Dashing off silently, Glasses went to the front parking lot. He purposefully put something under an older black Porsche (Glasses was actually a CIA Secret Operative prodigy?). As quickly as he'd entered, Glasses was out of the picture, blending back in next to Small Blondie.

But Tall Blondie shot and killed somebody! In the parking lot while _he_ was on duty! If only Tall Blondie would turn this way so he could see more than his back…wait.

Where'd Sunglasses go?

Vodka sat down in the driver's seat and started the engine. "Good thing you didn't trust our informant." He commented. "There were new cameras in that parking lot."

Gin grunted and lit a cigarette as the car turned onto the main street.

"Yeah, I wiped the tapes." Vodka gave a short chuckle. "Nice hat. Think I'll keep it," he said, tapping the brim of his SECURITY cap.

"The guy in the trunk certainly doesn't need it!"

* * *

I pulled out my keys and opened the front door. "I'm home," I called out of habit to the empty house.

Dropping my coat on the couch, I turned on the TV, even though there was little purpose to the action. Nowadays, there was nothing on the news to interest me.

Freedom was a curious thing. Before I had scanned anything, looking for a bare hint of _them_, absorbing it all in my cautiousness, but now nothing seemed to hold my interest. Besides, the news only covered disasters and politics (which I suppose could be classified in the former).

Maybe if I had someone to talk to, this could be better. But my only possible candidates were fresh in their graves (Kami bless the dear Professor's soul), or too busy with their regained careers (and pregnant fiancée).

Mitsuhiko used to come over, until he found some other girl he fancied better in the fourth grade. Now it was just me and the house left to me in Professor Agasa's will.

Myself and my experiments.

Myself and my experiments, and the person I idiotically dragged myself back to see. Hell if I know why.

Bored with the topic of….whatever was being discussed on the news, I switched to a rerun of Rachel Ray. I could probably cook that Mexican Lasagna better than she could by now.

Did I miss him that much? Enough to go see even the image of him? After all, that certainly wasn't who he was now.

I hadn't felt this empty in a while. Shinichi (I finally broke down and called him by his first name after all the persistent demands) had filled that void, only now he was busy. Busy with cases and Ran and preparations for their wedding.

Was I purposely torturing myself? I never should have taken it-the antidote. I could have started over; put the past, my sister, and killer-everything!-behind me. If only I could.

A new life wouldn't erase all the painful memories. Eiliv. A tall, proud boy. Now a damned, bitter, and even taller man.

Fate was cruel.

"_And __that's__ for showing my brother up, you little whore!" _

_One more sharp kick. The pudgy ball of fat sneering from the safety behind his older brother. "Foreign trash!" he yelled, double chins wagging. _

_She waited until they left to cry. Softly, so it was barely audible, but hard. None of the other students offered a helping hand, or even a glance, just walked by and out the middle school gates._

_"Shiho!" Hurriedly, she tried to end the tears, wipe off the dirt and blood. _

_"What the hell happened?" he snapped. She didn't flinch, knowing by know that he wasn't mad at her. Just mad he missed the chance to 'beat the living shit' out of her attackers again. _

_She should have been in the early elementary school across the way, not showing up middle schoolers, hence making her a regular target in the neighborhood. _

_Brushing her off briskly, he helped her to her feet. "Shiho, who was it this time?" _

_She answered with a question. "Who hasn't it been?" _

_Frowning, he grabbed her hand and they began walking home. Silently, they walked down the cracked sidewalk, past the old houses. It was bright and peaceful, the exact opposite of how these two felt. _

_"Tell me why," he demanded. "A few reasons. I received the highest score. Fatty Chris found that objectionable." _

_"Oh fuck," the boy muttered. _

_"Fatty Chris's older brother picked him up from school." _

_"I got into a brawl with James yesterday. Kicked his ass." _

_"I know," Shiho continued, "he mentioned it between hits." She stopped abruptly. The boy, still holding her hand, also halted._

_"Why?" she asked slowly. "Marcus is smart, but he never gets jumped. Aiesha isn't from America, but she is never called names." _

_"It's because we're different. We don't try to blend in. What're Marcus and Aiesha like?" _

_They followed the same script as they had previously many times. This was a regular discussion that the boy and she had. He always kept the same passionate viewpoints, proud of the fact he was nothing like the others in their neighborhood. She always wondered why the others viewed that fact as a bad thing. _

_Shiho sighed. "Marcus does anything asked of him, and Aiesha always wears the newest styles of clothing." _

_The boy crouched down to her level. "See? They try their hardest to become like those masses of sheep." That was what he called everyone else. Sheep. _

_"Not us!" He grinned wickedly, "When they push us, we push back. We don't fade in like the others. Got it? It's good that we're different!" Straightening up, he announced, "I'm glad as hell I'm not like those spineless sheep." _

_Tucking his pale blond hair behind his ear, they began walking again. "By the way," the boy added, "I'm still going to kick James's ass again tomorrow." _

_Shiho didn't mind. Fighting back couldn't make it worse. Unless her high school companion was taken way. "I know, Eiliv." _

_He chuckled at her patronizing tone. As they turned down their street, Shiho commented, "You didn't cut your hair." Eiliv shrugged, making his shoulder-length hair bounce nonchalantly. "Screw whoever doesn't like it. _

"_In fact," he smirked, "I'm planning to grow it out even further."

* * *

_

"Oi, Shiho!" Shinichi shifted from foot to foot outside Ag-Shiho's house. She stuck her head out of a hole in the basement that had yet to be repaired. "Hai?" she asked in a purposely bored tone.

"What, that's it? I'm back!"

Shiho rolled her eyes. "Smooth job stating the obvious, Sherlock. I can see why the world is captivated with your deductive abilities."

Shinichi pouted. While he'd grown up in some respects from his experiences, acting as a little boy for so long had rubbed off on him in many ways. "Aw, Shiho. You're so mean to me, even though I came to see you when I haven't been around for a while."

She rolled her eyes a second time. "You solved the case." Shinichi grinned. "Of course! I have something I want to talk to you about."

Sobering up, the detective asked the scientist, "Are you still visiting him?"

Shiho frowned slightly at his tone. "Hai."

An awkward pause permeated the air between them, growing, stretching, morphing blackly until would swallow him whole with memories; its _evil_-! "I see," he sighed (damn paranoia).

But he didn't understand. What was the point of going back? After all, the guy was (thankfully) going to hang.

Once his trial finally ended (darn all these procedures and waiting to see 'if the prisoner will provide any further information regarding his activities during his period with the criminal organization known as the Black Organization as further members are detained'. Yes, Shinichi had memorized it, complex and run-on as it was. It was the singular phrase holding him back from proper retribution), he would be gone.

So as to why the other person who'd had their life threatened by Gin (the reason why Shinichi had given up on the idea of ever drinking alcohol) visited him was Shinichi's only unsolved mystery. Why she almost crawled back to that disgusting man like some love-sick…Oh Kami!

Please, no no no no no iie! Was that why? "Shiho, do you-? Love-?" Gah, she blushed! 'How could you do this to everyone; how could you do this…'

"How…me?" Shinichi strangled out.

"What makes you say that?"

"You…you are?"

"I know I shouldn't, but still…!"

Somebody, shoot him now! "How could you? Baka!"

"Wait, what?" Shiho said incredulously. "Of all the people-!"

Whoops. Shinichi saw the look on her face.

"Well, gomenasai!" she hissed sarcastically. "I don't need _you_ telling me that I'm an idiot for falling in love with a guy who has a fiancée already! Just run off to some other case already!" There may not have been a door to slam, but Shiho still managed to pull off the effect.

Shinichi stood there, mouth open like a gaping fish.

Gin had a fiancée?

No, wait…slow down, Kudou. Don't…don't _you_ have a fiancée (remember Ran?)? "Kuso, I really messed up," Shinichi muttered, rumpling his hair. He'd never even considered the fact that there was an actual _reason_ she got so annoyed when he randomly left on a case and just as randomly showed up however-many-weeks later. He'd thought it was just a girl thing between Shiho and Ran.

Shinichi sighed. How typical that once they didn't need to hide anymore that freedom wasn't as perfect as they'd imagined. Everything sure didn't seem as pleasant between them.

* * *

Chaos was the only way to describe it. Pure chaos. Stationed behind any form of cover were FBI agents and Sosheki members alike. Bullets were flying, and the tiles of the narrow hallways were slick with spreading patches of blood. The lights above shattered and burst as they were hit by stray ammunition.

Dashing from spot to hiding spot were Aniki and I. Aniki had spotted Vermouth slinking off, and was determined to follow her.

While killing was a pastime endured by me and thoroughly enjoyed by Aniki, we were both willing to abandon it for a chance to…um, do whatever Aniki was planning. Besides, it was obvious the Sosheki was falling.

We crept down the stairs after her, down to an area the FBI hadn't infiltrated yet. In the middle of the hall, waiting for us, was Vermouth herself.

"I thought you boys were following me," she smirked.

Gin growled something indistinct under his breath. "I know how much you love disguising as everyone else and causing mass panic, so I wondered why you were running away with your tail between your legs."

She just laughed at us. "I wasn't running away, I was running _to_!" I scrunched up my forehead, trying to decipher the difference between the two.

"She had a hunch," a voice added.

"Boss!" I gasped, and Aniki narrowed his eyes. "And I was right!" Vermouth taunted, waving a handheld device. "This little darling checks for any tracking devices in the area."

"Your hunch?" Aniki snapped, warily eyeing the two of them. It wasn't uncommon for Aniki to distrust the boss. I don't think anyone truly _did_ trust him.

"She thought you two might have brought the authorities here," the Boss announced.

Behind my sunglasses, my own eyes widened. "Us? Why?"

"The silver bullet is persistent," Vermouth cooed, as if praising some small child (which turned out to be an ironic statement). "It might interest you to know that Kudou Shinichi is alive."

While Aniki might as well have a giant question mark about his head, I recognized the name. He was the brat that was the first recipient of a new drug (APQW? AZTS?) that the, er, _sensitive subject_, had created.

"Really? I wasn't informed of that."

Vermouth really was the Boss's favorite-he didn't seem perturbed at all!

Aniki persisted, "I doubt that whoever it was managed to place a tracker on _us_, and also have connections with the FBI."

"Wrong, and wrong!" Gleefully, Vermouth tapped the red dot on the screen with a long nail. I couldn't see the screen well, but anybody could figure out that a red dot meant something. "We looked. It's your car in the parking lot!"

"Gin. Vodka. I'm disappointed in you two," the Boss sighed.

Fuashiji. When the Boss was disappointed in you, there was never a good outcome.

"Oh, and he probably got his FBI connection through the boyfriend of_Sherry's_ sister."

Oh, shit. Wrong thing to say, Vermouth! As I'd known would happen, Gin lunged forward, pulling out his gun.

"Aniki, matte!"

Boss quickly aimed his own gun. Vermouth laughed shrilly, thoroughly amused. Boss fired.

"Aniki!" To my surprise, Aniki didn't fall. Vermouth ran off somewhere, and Boss tripped Aniki and followed.

Then I understood.

Pain flooded my chest, and I fell to my knees, coughing. That same slippery, wet red as upstairs in the fray burst forward. "Vodka!" Aniki ran over, abandoning the chase. Those two were slippery…slippery red. Kami, bad choice of words.

Kneeling, he frowned. Neither of us said what we knew: this was a fatal wound.

"Destroy it," I begged.

"Destroy what?" But I think he knew the answer.

When an operative died, Boss destroyed their file and any information about them so nobody ever found out _anything _about them. So we stayed anonymous nobodies, even in death. But I could care less if Aniki saw it.

"They'll take my body-"admitting I was going for good.

I paused to cough. Hit a lung? Kuso.

Aniki was silent. I couldn't see his eyes behind his bangs. He was waiting for my last words.

"Please. I don't want to be identified. I don't want my wife to know what happened to me." Aniki grunted. I recognized an affirmative. "Good." I laughed rasply, which morphed into another coughing fit.

After so many years of secrets, I was desperate to tell _someone_. "My child would be so disappointed."

Aniki's eyebrows raised, the only indication of surprise. He'd known I was older than him, but that much older? Haha.

"Aniki?" Glancing down, he stared at his drawn gun.

"Shot lung. Slow, painful way to die," he muttered.

He didn't bother with aiming. It was point-blank range. Fired quickly. Then it finally hit me. I'm really dyi-

* * *

"Well, minna, we caught them!" James grinned and launched into his victory speech.

Jodie, sitting next to him in the meeting room, tuned him out and glared through the throngs of agents squeezed together. She narrowed her sights on a certain person who was back from the dead, somebody she had spent sleepless nights over crying.

Akai caught her eye, and nodded with a miniscule apologetic smile. Jodie jerked her head away and tilted her nose in the air, the perfect picture of offended (because, seriously? The guy fakes his death, doesn't tell anyone, infiltrates the Black Organization _again_, and then shows up one day announcing where the main base is! And everyone else welcomes him back with open arms!).

All the agents milled around afterwards, and the supply of victory drinks (non-alcoholic for the really sensitive agents) dwindled at an amazing rate. "Jodie."

"Save it, Shuu."

"I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. You know-"

That was it. Jodie went ballistic/hysterical-woman-who-is-pissed-as-hell-at-you-but-you-act-like-nothing-happened on him. Or, for a shorter term, bat-shit crazy.

"I know!" Shrieking, she jerked her drink at him (just because it wasn't alcohol didn't mean she couldn't get drunk!), sloshing cider down the front of his shirt.

"I get to 'confirm' that you're dead, spend many nights crying over your ass and begging any God in hearing range to send you to a nice place next to Akemi, and waste so much time that I fall behind on my essay grading, making my students disappointed, making _me_ feel disappointed in myself, causing me to grow feelings of self worthlessness, causing _more_ sleepless nights wondering why I couldn't save you-accompanied by _more_ crying! And then you show up and I'm supposed to act like everything's just peachy, nodding 'Yes, I know. Of course, dear Shuu. Welcome back!'"

Everyone paused and stared at the two of them. James put his head in his hands, sighing heavily and muttering about how 'it's time for me to retire…these youngsters!'. Bets started up, with people putting more money down on Akai as the first one to run crying from the room (not a new experience to those who incurred Jodie's wrath before).

Akai took a deep breath, and said in front of all present, "Jodie, I couldn't tell you because you can't act well at _all_, and the Organization would have known something was up."

Those closest to the fray scooted back, wanting to put as much distance between them and Jodie as possible. Jodie stood there, outraged and shocked.

"It was something I had to do. I had to end it. And I did." Nodding, Shuuichi finished in that quiet, harsh way of his, "And I'm sorry. I'm not expecting forgiveness either."

Shouldering through the crowd, Akai left. All Jodie could do was stand there, feeling like she'd just been lectured heavily in those few short words, and silently begin to cry. Akai just had that effect on her, always making her cry.

The watching agents were unsure what to do. Akai had left the room, but _Jodie _was the one crying. Who won the bet?

Absolutely miserable now, Jodie sat in a corner as the festivities tentatively started up again. She'd been selfish. How could he have done this to _her_? Didn't he care about how he'd made _her_ feel?

What about how he felt knowing what _he_ was doing? What it must feel like to have to calmly work for the Organization again after they killed the woman _he_ loved? Poor Shuu.

Just a few words, and Jodie could see a whole other perspective. Her father was killed by them, that was true. But Shuu's love had been murdered, and he'd lost any chance of a normal life in his obsession to hunt them down.

Yet he was still the strong one. The one with the plans, the reassuring words, and the guts to carry out a ruse like that!

Silent, she swirled the dregs of her drink as she mulled over everything. Besides, he was right. She couldn't act all that well, and she would have felt even worse if he'd been ferreted out and _actually_ killed because of her.

Slamming down her empty glass, Jodie marched out, on a mission to make amends.

* * *

I slept fitfully that night. I felt as if I'd been punched in the gut. Seeing Shiho, and what she'd said, had turned my world upside down (or perhaps more of a quarter turn).

Twice. I'd had my views radically altered twice in such a short (well, relatively) amount of time. Two. How I hated that number now. It seemed like such a final number.

How many years I'd been locked away. The number of partners I'd lost (work _and_ personal relationships). How many names I'd had, and the number of times I was going to 'die', apparently.

Those facts twisted my dreams into a bizarre collage of memories and expectations ('fears' was _not_ an allowed word).

"Eiliv!" Standing up straight, the young woman's tone was joyful.

Questioning, I asked her slowly, "Can I help you?" Next to me, Mitsuhiro put the suitcase from the conveyor belt down next to the others. "How does she know your name?" he murmured.

"It's me," she said, indicating herself, "Shiho."

I did a small double-take. When I'd left for Japan, Shiho had been a small, scrawny thirteen year old. She'd grown inches in the last two years, and filled out. But she still wore the same haircut, and still spoke in that soft, even tone.

"I didn't recognize you. You've grown," I told her gruffly. Had things always been this awkward?

"You've changed too." True to my word, I'd grown out my hair. I took a bizarre sense of pride in my waist-length…locks (sounded girly as hell).

Jerking my head, I introduced, "This is M-Rhino."

Mitsuhiro stuttered, "Konichiwa." A grown man, even older than I, and he _still_ stuttered when talking to others.

"What's _your_ codename?" Grabbing a suitcase, we began following her to the car.

I grinned. "Mamba. But Widow, our mentor, thinks that if we play our cards right as a pair, we'll move up to Cocktail status soon."

Shiho nodded curtly. She never did like to hear talk of the Organization. But, hell! We were joining them. "Rhino, you can put the suitcases in the back," Shiho instructed.

The drive back to the house was silent. 'I'm only gone for two years and she grows up so much.' "How's school?" I finally asked.

Shiho gazed out the window. "I've learned a lot. I'm in my second year of college." …Shiho always was the genius.

"Who do you associate with?" Mentally, I wondered how many guys I'd have to shoot. Shiho was a gorgeous gir-woman.

"Nobody."

'Never mind.' Still, I was mildly surprised at the feeling of content I felt at that statement. After my two year training in Japan, learning to suppress all emotion (besides the desire to kill), it was a kind of shock.

"Did you see nee-chan at all?"

I frowned at her.

"For the purpose of gathering information on the location of operatives, of course." She added as if she'd intended to say it all along. I shook my head. "Akemi's already been relocated somewhere else. It wasn't vital to know, so I wasn't informed of any further details."

Shiho frowned. Memories of her protesting the Organization's methods when she was younger were flooding back.

Finally, Mitsuhiro pulled up to the house I'd lived in since relocation from my parents (Shiho and Akemi had come later). I didn't have a license under my new name yet (Jin Kurosawa-I'd chosen it myself as a kind of goal. Heh.), and Shiho wasn't legal yet, so my new partner was our chauffeur.

Unlocking the front door, Shiho said, "Sensei wishes he could be here to greet you but other business required him to be elsewhere."

I could care less where the man who had 'raised' us was.

Mitsuhiro quietly began pulling out suitcases. I followed Shiho as she walked won the hall.

Vaguely, I glanced over the still-pictureless walls. Opening a door, she turned and told me, "Hope you haven't grown too much for this room." I grunted. Shiho nodded.

She always understood. "And also," she added, "Welcome back."

Greedily, I kissed her back.

_"Just kidding," she taunted, pulling back. Something clicked. A released safety? 'How'd Sherry get my gun?' _

_Because it was Sherry-older and colder. _

_Only she was shrinking now, shouting at me to put my hands up. Her voice was so high-I never did like kids. In annoyance, I reached out to strangle her. _

_She shot me. _

_Pulled the trigger, again and again, grinning. And I fell down, down the long hotel chimney. _

_"Hang as Gin!" It echoed and bounced off the walls around me. "Hang!" "HANG!" Until the rope stopped my fall. _

_An audible snap._

I jerked awake, snarling and breathing heavily.

* * *

All three of them attended that day: Shinichi, Ran, and Shiho. Ran thought it was all too cruel, and she blended into the back. Shinichi promised to be there afterwards, and stood up by Shiho.

_He_ snapped and fought the whole way there. Only he never tried to escape. An attempt to be a proud, determined man until the end.

He was yelling at them to "let go of me, dammit! I have legs, you blind assholes! I can walk up there by myself!" The two guards still kept a firm grip on his arms, and a steady aim with their guns, just in case.

His list of charges was long and unsurprising: blackmail, murder, fixing elections, being a member of an illegal criminal organization, etc. They'd even discovered some unpaid parking tickets under his beloved Porsche's records.

He had no last words, just a harsh glare.

The bag was shoved over his head. Shinichi and Shiho watched with blank faces until he stopped twitching. But Shiho gripped Shinichi's hand tightly the whole time.

The two groups parted afterwards, with Shiho finally breaking down and agreeing to be a bridesmaid at the wedding.

Akai smoked his cigarette on the rooftop, the wind lazily blowing the smoke away. Jodie opened the rooftop door and walked over. She apologized through tears, rambling on.

Akai ruffled her hair and answered. Bawling even harder, Jodie tackled him gratefully in a hug.

Surprised, and with the wind knocked out of him, Akai's cigarette flew out of his mouth and over the railing.

Down in the parking lot, James watched as a cigarette fell at his feet. Looking up curiously for a moment, he continued walking to his car.

* * *

Life isn't perfect, as we've all learned. You win some and you lose some. But even winning can make you lose in some ways, and losing can let you win in others (if that makes any sense). A person can't fall forever. It always ends-with happiness, or death.

~End~

A Quick Omake

Shinichi and Ran didn't offer alcoholic refreshments (for obvious reasons) at their wedding, much to Kogoro's disappointment.

* * *

1 Aniki: Normally, a wiser or older brother; in gangs, one's superior/partner

2 Hai: Yes

3 Kami: God

4 Iie: No

5 Gomenasai: I'm sorry

6 Kuso: Shit

7 Sosheki: Organization

8 Fuashiji: Fudge

9 Matte: Wait

10 Minna: Everyone

11 Sensei: Teacher

* * *

**A/N: Phew! And thus ends my longest fic to date! :) As Detective Conan worms its way closer to the 71st volume, one kinda thinks the end is near! So before canon spoils all my lovely conspiracy theories, I wanted to post my 'vision' of their future. NOTE: I am a AixConan fan, however, since it's obvious that Shinichi is going to end up with Ran -_-...I figured it would be more prudent to stick those two together. Plus, it helps add to Shiho's loneliness factor, and keeps alive the 'suffering cruel fate' attitude she always seems to have.**

**Please, PLEASE feel free to review! I accept criticisms (note: that doesn't mean flaming! I dislike those .) and glowering praise of my works...those are very nice to read on my bad days ^_^  
~Kblvs2read**


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